


Do you feel lucky, punk?

by rubber_band_ball



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Multi, Scott is a Good Friend, Self-Doubt, Stiles Stilinski-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubber_band_ball/pseuds/rubber_band_ball
Summary: As far as the supernatural occurrences in Beacon Hills go, this one wasn’t all that bad.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 11
Kudos: 123





	1. The Lucky One

As far as the supernatural occurrences in Beacon Hills go, this one wasn’t all that bad. Back when they first realized they were dealing with a witch, just over a week ago, Stiles thought they were entering the biggest shit storm any of them has ever seen. But here they are, all alive and well, and the witch is leaving Beacon Hills as they are leaving the Preserve, both sides parting on friendly terms. She honestly didn’t know the territory had a resident wolf pack whose senses might be bothered by the vibrations her magic was causing. Considering both her and her daughter were under the sleeping curse for the last four hundred years or so, it wasn’t that hard to believe her story. Neither Derek nor Peter could remember any Hales from so long ago.

They are currently driving back home, Stiles and Scott in Roscoe; Derek, Peter, and Isaac in the Camaro, and Lydia and Allison in Lydia’s Toyota Prius. When Stiles managed to find himself a social circle, let alone one with such cool cars is an ongoing question. Another question that doesn’t seem to be getting an answer anytime soon is when Isaac had switched from Team Scott back to Team Derek. Derek’s returning Beta status and Scott’s newfound Alpha status made it more difficult to answer.

But Stiles is firmly in the no-complaining camp. He’s a firm believer in karma, and after the Alpha pack cost them Boyd and Erica, and they got saddled with the whole darkness thing, the universe probably owes them. They may have had their issues as a group but at least they are on the same side these days. A side that apparently helps a hysteric witch mother wake her daughter up so they can be together once again. Her magic may have threatened to burn down half of the forest, but Derek was more than happy to lend a little bit of his blood for her spell. A spell which required monarch’s blood connected to the soil which is just fancy witch talk for Alpha’s blood. The spell seeing it as once-an-alpha-always-an-alpha of Hale Land only made matters easier. Nobody asked whether Peter counted but he hadn’t offered anyway.

So overall, one pack or two, it feels good to be together, which is why Stiles doesn’t feel like going back to an empty house just yet. The rain has been drizzling for about two hours now and they all need to dry off and warm up. He’s already decided it’s a perfect night for pack bonding and what’s better than movies and cheap food at the loft. He just needs to convince Scott before the next intersection, because once Lydia turns to her street she is not turning back.

It’s truly his lucky night because just as Stiles says he could kill for a pizza night, Scott looks at him for a second, then hums and nods. And while Stiles is thinking alright, at least one down, Scott opens the window and OH! MY! GOD!

He knew it was too good to be true. Stiles always felt like a weak link in the pack. With Lydia now being a confirmed banshee, the only other human is Allison and she sure as hell doesn’t need help defending herself so Stiles always expected trouble to snatch him up. Who knew it would be Scott, his best friend, his brother, that ends up going insane. Scott, who literally opened the window and seemingly tried ordering pizza from nighttime air and how is he supposed to fight something he can’t see? Although, isn’t this a case for a normal therapist and not their gang? Non-werewolf folk go nuts too! With everything that's been happening in Beacon Hills they're probably making big bucks. He’ll have to talk to Melissa.

“Stiles?” Scott is calmly shaking droplets of water off his jacket like he wasn’t just professionally diagnosed with hopefully temporary insanity.

“Hmm?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Hmm?”

“Isaac is asking for pepperoni, and Derek said fine. I didn’t wait for Peter’s order.”

Oh.

_Ohhh._

Damn werewolf hearing.

This is something Stiles could get used to; he just needs to find a way to make it more efficient. It would certainly help with his phone bill. His dad was working doubles as it is. They could start sitting on the opposite ends of the classroom. No teacher is going to accuse him of talking to Scott with so much distance between them. He just needs to figure out how Scott is supposed to respond since Stiles can’t hear him.

“Stiles?!!!” Scott is looking at him like he’s grown a second head.

“What?”

“What is wrong with you?”, Scott asks as he’s rolling the window back up.

“Sorry, I just zoned out. What’s up?”

“Isaac says girls agree. Drive to the loft”, he says and slouches in his seat.

Isaac and Allison getting closer by the day still puts Scott in a damp mood but that’s an ongoing issue so Stiles just turns the radio up and drives because he definitely didn’t think the day would be this easy and he’s so not complaining.

*

Of course, that’s just about as much luck they can get because it is at the loft where everything seems to go to hell. They are settling in to watch the first Avengers movie and Lydia is sulking because she was outvoted on The Notebook. Again. Even Allison is sick of looking at Ryan Gosling at this point. So after her third sigh that Stiles is feeling too content to do something about, she turns her displeasure elsewhere.

“Derek, be a decent host and bring me a blanket.”

“No.”

“I’m not a werewolf Derek, I don’t have your heat.”

“Get it yourself.”

“You’d prefer me going through your things?”

Derek glares but figures out pretty quickly he’s fighting a losing battle so he just rolls his eyes and goes upstairs, in the search of the said blanket.

Peter is lurking behind them, in his usual spot on the staircase and while no one expects (or wants) him to stick around, they won’t stop him from taking care of a few receipts. He moves towards the door just as Scott and Isaac share an amused look.

“And we thought the last one was scared. This one has the heartbeat like a chased bunny.”

Terrified delivery guys became a running joke in the last couple of months. There is even an ongoing bet about what is it that scares them the most. Peter was the instigator and he named Derek as the scary link which resulted in Derek point blank refusing to either order or open the door at all. Stiles tried to make it better by blaming it on the mostly abandoned neighborhood while Isaac claimed it was the creepy building exterior. Lydia and Allison thought the giant metal door was the off-putting part until Scott pointed out they probably think they’re delivering to some kind of a weird cult meeting because how else are they supposed to explain such a mismatched group of people and the constant destruction happening inside.

The current guy must the worst of all though, if Scott and Isaac’s matching smirks are anything to go by. They are both staring at the door waiting for the humorous showdown when Stiles looks to his left and sees Lydia looking at Peter pointedly, and Lydia hasn’t been okay with Peter for a while (if ever) so Stiles doesn’t think anything of it until he notices that Allison also seems tense which makes Stiles realize that they’ve been waiting for way too long. Scott and Isaac, who seem to have finally caught on that something's wrong, sit a little straighter and start looking at Peter too.

Peter, who is … not opening the door. He is standing by it but he is not opening it. He is holding his palm pressed to it, straight in the middle, and despite Stiles only seeing his back, he knows something is seriously wrong. Because he is pretty sure no delivery guy in the world can make Peter look so tense. Something big is happening and judging by Scott and Isaac who seem about a second away from wolfing out, Stiles reckons it’s safe to say their luck has officially run out.

Peter finally moves, slowly puts his right hand on the doorknob while his left one forms a fist and Stiles can see a faint tremor in both of his hands and seriously? Peter’s hands are shaking? The guy barely blinked at a homicidal lizard and he’s responsible for the county's highest death toll connected to wild animals. What the hell?

Peter takes another breath and finally pulls the door open.

On the threshold of the door stands a woman. Dark hair, dark eyes, medium height. Loose-fitting teal blue dress and flat shoes. Overall, a very normal looking woman with no claws, no teeth, no any-other-abnormal-parts, that might be a little underdressed for the weather and who looks way more terrified than any of them. Scott and Isaac seem to have significantly calmed down and are mostly confused now, while Lydia is no longer hiding behind Allison who not only managed to find her crossbow sometime in the last minute but seemingly deemed it unnecessary since she’s already lowering it down.

No one seems to know just what to do and everyone is staring at the duo waiting for something, anything to happen.  
It’s the woman who breaks the silence.

“Peter?”

And okay … some sort of recognition is there. And she doesn’t seem like she’ll be attacking anyone anytime soon so everybody relaxes a little bit more and Scott even makes few slow steps towards the door. Peter is still looking nothing like himself.

“Peter, what is going on?” She’s starting to cry but considering she’s the one who came to them, Stiles feels like they should be the ones asking questions.“How are you here?

How is this possible?” Peter seems to have realized that the English language is the best option here. “What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was making bread in the kitchen, Gemma and George were coming to dinner and then I suddenly found myself in the middle of the woods. I saw the house! Peter, what happened?”

Stiles has no idea who Gemma and George are and Peter doesn’t seem willing to offer explanations at this point.

“Assuming no one is planning to attack, can we all sit down? I have some questions too and right now we look like a scene from a Spanish telenovela.” Scott seems to have finally remembered he’s the Alpha now and that’s actually a decent point. They are all standing scattered around the living room area, occasionally glancing at each other and there’s no actual reason they can’t be shifty with each other while sitting down.

“Scott, get out!” And the Zombie king regains his voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Get out and take your friends with you!”

“Peter, what the hell?”, and Isaac may be fiddling between Team Derek and Team Scott but he sure as hell isn’t Team Peter.

“This is a family matter and I have no time for your teenage dramatics. Get out.”

“No!” Even barefoot and in a frilly dress, Lydia manages to be the poster child of dominance. “We are not leaving until we get some answers, so either you start talking or she does.”

God, Stiles loves her. Turning around to look at Lydia makes Stiles notice that Derek has reentered the room at some point without anyone realizing it and is staring at the strange woman too. Turning back around shows him that Peter is now facing Lydia.

“Listen Red, you were really fun to hang around but grown-ups have a thing or two to discuss so can you spare me the Teen Queen act and get out?”

“Either you talk or I shoot”, Allison’s crossbow makes a swift turn and wow, only Allison can say something like that while looking like a Disney Princess. Combine Lydia and Allison and you got yourself Merida the Brave. Stiles, focus!

“Fine.” There is Peter they all know and despise, seething with anger.

“This is my sister Talia.” And yup, their luck just grew itself some wings and went out the window. “The one who used to be dead, yes! As you might imagine we have some catching up to do so if you would be so kind and give us some privacy that would be highly appreciated.”

And while everyone is staring at Peter and … freaking … Talia Hale, trying to understand _how_?! … Stiles turns around and looks at Derek.

Derek, who is still standing by the windows, stuck in the middle of a step, mouth slightly open, completely frozen and staring at, what Stiles suddenly understands, is his mother. His _mom_.

There is more to him than the gruff exterior, he knows that now. Stiles has been trying to find a way to talk to him about Paige, about Kate, about Jennifer, for he knows it all left a toll but he just couldn’t find the opportunity. He can’t help but wonder what is going on in Derek’s head. Is he thinking about the voices she did for the bedtime stories or how she organized family field trips? Did she use to tell him that thunders are just angels bowling or did she like to watch Christmas movies even after New Year’s Eve? Was she a strict parent or did she console every bad grade with ice cream or frozen yogurt? Did she like to ride a bike? Bake cookies? Read crime stories?

Stiles is certain he would give just about anything for one more minute with his mom and while he may not be ready to admit that a little part of him is jealous that Derek is getting that chance, a bigger part of him is terrified because Derek is still standing there, absolutely frozen and wide-eyed and Stiles would kill to have a brooding, growling, delivery-guy-scaring Derek back because that version never did really scare him.  
Talia is hugging Peter, whimpering occasionally, and just like that, Stiles understands they have no way of winning here.

“We’re leaving.” His voice sounds far more determined than he feels.

“What?”

There’s a blanket on the floor, next to Derek’s feet, and what an odd thing to notice. As much as Stiles wants all the possible information, _he_ knows about Kate, knows how the fire happened, but Talia _doesn’t_. He imagines how hard this must be for Derek and there is no way in hell he’ll make him go through it in front of everyone.

“Isaac, we’re leaving and you’re coming with us. You can sleep at mine.”

Stiles turns to Scott, looks at him, begging him to understand, to agree without asking too many questions. Scott looks back at him, frowning slightly before looking at Peter and then Derek for a second. He silently makes his decision and nods at Stiles. “Everybody, gather your things, we’re leaving. Isaac, you’re coming with me.”

Lydia and Allison grab their bags from the couch and Isaac takes his jacket from the railing by the door. Everybody starts to slowly move towards the door. Stiles takes one last look at Derek, who seems no more composed now than he was a minute earlier. He wants to say something but he’s not sure Derek’s capable of words right now and what do you even say? He joins the others by the door and leaves the loft. They enter the elevator without a word, staring at the yellow spots on greyish walls, lost in their thoughts as they go down and when they reach their cars and they still don’t know what to say, they part ways just as silently, like strangers who had never said a word to each other, to begin with.


	2. Meet me in the middle

If Stiles could focus for more than five seconds, he would know exactly how many stains there are on his bedroom ceiling but considering that he spent all night tossing and turning, and most of the morning trying to make sense of the situation and still came up empty-handed, he honestly has no idea. He counted up to 17 three different times but after that everything just got a little blurry. He had breakfast, had coffee, had Adderall, and at just shy of two p. m., he feels about ready to jump out of his skin and fling himself into the nearest lake. Freaking Talia Hale!

Scott called him this morning, interrupting the only two hours of sleep he got and told him he went to see Deaton at the crack of dawn and found the vet not even pretending to be surprised to see him. He felt a huge shift in the magnetic field last night and considering he’s the one who clued them in about the witch in the first place, he assumed two occurrences must be connected but refused to offer any useful information until he checked his sources. Vagueness is a serious character flaw, as Stiles has violently pointed out in the past. 

There is a pack meeting happening at Scott’s in an hour and Stiles knows he needs to move in order to stop his leg from jittering if he has any chance of understanding a word at that meeting. And he’s quite determined to understand everything single word, no matter how insignificant it seems. Because that look on Derek’s face? That will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. Why didn’t he just stay? He could have done something, figured something out. If nothing else, he could have cracked a few jokes to lighten the mood. Maybe Talia has a decent sense of humor. Or she had _had_ one? What’s proper grammar for the afterlife? There is no way he’s chill enough to be fashionably-late so he might as well be excitedly-early. He pours his second coffee into the thermos and sets off.

It takes a couple of tries to get Roscoe to start but soon enough he’s cruising by the all too familiar streets. Except, he’s not driving to Scott’s. He’s driving towards the loft. He figures he still has ample time to make it back in time so he’ll just check if anything if off. Well other than what he already knows is off. He’s driving numbly and it’s only the familiarity of the route that keeps him from committing any serious traffic violations, and soon enough he’s there. 

The building is still standing, tall and creepy as ever, and there’s nobody around it. Actually, there’s something missing around it. The Camaro is not there. So unless Zombie Talia felt like taking a joy ride all of a sudden, Derek is probably not here which technically means he just wasted his time coming. He turns around on the parking lot and drives back to Scott’s, with an ever-growing discomfort.

*

Scott’s driveway is packed. Melissa’s Honda is in its usual space, Allison and Lydia apparently arrived separately, and Deaton’s car is on the street so Stiles parks behind it and wonders just how early everybody else got here. 

He doesn’t bother ringing the doorbell because even without the werewolf hearing he resembles voices and the one currently talking is Mrs. McCall. Was he supposed to tell his dad about this? The Sheriff had an early shift this morning so he had missed him but he would probably like to know if people presumed dead suddenly started living again. Figuring he can just call him later in case this is an actual zombie apocalypse, he lets himself in and heads towards the noise. 

Everybody is gathered in the living room, occupying the couch, and even a couple of chairs from the kitchen. Scott is standing by the fireplace, his mother sitting on a chair next to him with Isaac taking a chair on her other side. Lydia and Allison are on the couch, and Deaton is in the sofa chair by the window looking far too leisurely. When Stiles walks in, everybody looks up at him but only Scott and Mrs. McCall throw him a small smile. He takes the remaining seat next to Lydia and … and then he spots Derek. Derek, who is standing by the window, obscured slightly by both Deaton and random lamp, arms crossed and looking down, face unreadable. Stiles is not even sure Derek noticed him when he came in. 

Scott has apparently been waiting for him to arrive. “Alright, meeting open. Doc, you have the first word.”

“Thank you, Scott. As I’ve already explained to you and Derek …”

So Derek’s been here for a while? Stiles didn’t spot the Camaro outside. But Derek could have parked further away. Considering how out of it Stiles was feeling earlier he could have easily just not noticed it. And if has been here for a while, is Talia with Peter? Probably not the best idea to just leave her wandering around the town on her own. Maybe Derek walked (or more likely ran), and Peter took Talia out for a sibling bonding spree. To think of it, probably not the best idea to leave Talia alone with Peter. Or anyone else, really. He should mention that to someone.

“… the witch probably just wanted to return the favor. Reuniting a mother with the child. Sadly, after so many years of inactivity, she simply wasn’t strong enough to repeat such a powerful spell with its full effects.”

“So what does that mean for Talia?”, Allison asks timidly. 

“She’s not actually real. She’s corporeal and seemingly has a heartbeat, but it’s an illusion.” Mellissa throws him a confused look. “Like a hologram with lifelike sound effects, if you will.”

Stiles wants to point out you can’t touch a hologram but tech lesson is probably redundant. Plus Derek looks so broken already he’s not sure how little could push him over the edge. 

They all know what the next question is and when nobody seems willing to ask, Alpha takes the charge. “How long?”, Scott asks quietly, and Deaton answers as leisurely as if he’s talking about a grocery list. “Your guess is as good as mine. Could be a day, or two, or even a full week. It all depends on how strong the witch was and we have no way of knowing that. I doubt she even knows.”

Scott informs everyone that it’s unlikely anyone else is coming back, and that hurts a little. They all have people they’ve lost. Silence falls upon them as it seems no one has anything left to say or ask, and after Melissa offers breakfast that all but Scott refuse, they start packing up to leave. Derek doesn’t have any belongings to gather and he never took off the leather jacket in the first place so he’s the first to exit the room. Stiles follows, as Scott watches after him, and manages to catch Derek a second from escaping through the back door. 

“Derek!”

“What is it, Stiles?” Derek stops at the door but doesn’t turn to look at him which leaves Stiles looking at his tense shoulders. He wants to ask _how are you?_ but even without two werewolves currently in the living room, he doesn’t think he could get away with something so forward. Not with an unscathed heart at least. So he blurts out the first thing he comes up with and regrets it immediately.

“Where are you going?”

Derek turns slightly so now Stiles is looking at his profile and he doesn’t think he saw Derek look so tormented even when Cora was dying. His brows are furrowed, not in usual anger but unbearable sadness. 

“Home. Peter and … ”, Derek doesn’t seem to be willing to say _mom_ , and when he leans his forehead on the door and closes his eyes to take a deep breath, Stiles is about to help him and just call her Talia but Derek beats him to it. “ I’m going home.” And in the greatest display of werewolf speed Stiles has seen since Peter’s rampage on the video store, Derek’s gone, the door shut silently but firmly and Stiles doesn’t follow. 

*

He returns to the living room to find Scott sitting in the middle of the couch, leaned forward, and looking at his clasped hands. 

“Heard that?”

“Tried not to. Fact that I can doesn’t give me the right to.” Scott has gotten a lot wiser since he pulled a True Alpha act. “Or so mom says anyway”, he says as he cracks a devilish smirk at Stiles, and hey, nobody said he stopped being Scott. But he’s trying.

“So where is everyone?”

“Mom is making scrambled, Deaton returned to the clinic, and Isaac took off with the girls. I wanted to wait for you.” Stiles knows Scott’s still bothered by Isaac and Allison, so the fact that Scott is focusing on Stiles right now is greatly appreciated even though he’s getting a really bad feeling about this conversation.

“And why’s that?”

“I’ve been worried about him too. This is definitely not easy for him but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to talk to me about it. And Isaac is still kind of scared of him. Peter is just a big fat no. So yeah, you are pretty much our best chance. But it’s not just that. You’ve smelled different around him for a while. Somewhere around maybe Boyd. I just didn’t know what it was at the time. I’ve gotten better at it now.”

And yeah, pretty much the worst conversation ever and Stiles has no way of getting out of it. Unwillingness to let things slide seems like one of the new Alpha things too. A couple of days after Jennifer disappeared and Deucalion was sent away with a tail between his legs, Scott tricked him with a promise of a gaming night and proceeded to sit him down and explain exactly how unhealthy and unrealistic his infatuation with Lydia has been over the years. The last time Stiles got that kind of lecture was when he was ten and broke into his father’s records because he was bored and wanted to see whether rebellious kids from school had equally rebellious parents. Even coming from a sheriff, the lesson was more about honor and raising a child right than backed with evidence. Scott however, did the math to prove how much money Stiles has spent on Lydia’s last birthday. Math! Scott!!! So after being schooled on healthy relationships and expectations, Stiles slightly backed away from Lydia. And by slightly he means a truckload. 

So if Scott now wants to talk to him about the way he smells around someone, he is probably getting another lesson, only ten times worse, because he and Scott had never actually talked about the way he occasionally gets flustered around good looking men. When he was younger it was easy to pretend he was just mocking a guy for whatever level of personal grooming he was exhibiting. But even prior to werewolf powers, Stiles suspected Scott knew what was up. After wolfing up, there was no doubt he was just waiting for Stiles to bring it up. Waiting seems to be over as Scott is now expectantly looking at him. Stiles can presume his heart is beating loud as it is but he can’t bear to sit next to Scott and allow him an even better polygraph test, so he slowly lowers himself into Melissa’s previous seat on the chair, ignoring how much this feels like a start of Gerard’s questioning and waits.

“Stiles, it’s okay. I’ve known for a while. And I never cared.” Stiles is trying, he really is but he’s never done this before and he sure as hell isn’t ready to do it now so he does what he does best. He deflects.

“Look, it’s not a big deal, okay? I’m just not blind. He’s hot, people are hot. It’s an observation and my brain likes to run wild with everything anyway.”

“Stiles, breathe with me, okay? You are matching all the delivery guys together!”

He wonders if Isaac can smell him too and if he was staying silent because of Scott, some sense of politeness, or the general unwillingness to talk to Stiles at all. They have never really been friends anyway. But thinking about Isaac opens up a fresh new can of worms. 

“Does Derek know?!” That is the worst of it all probably. The fact that Derek could probably smell him too. After everything with Kate and Jennifer, he definitely doesn’t need another person objectifying him, especially not Stiles. Not a werewolf, not a part of the pack, not someone who understands. Just a stupid spastic kid. Only Allison is a worse choice, connection to Kate and all. 

“Stiles, calm down. Derek doesn’t … I think he just doesn’t want to hurt you.” Scott has slid to the right end of the couch and is sitting as close as he can to Stiles without crowding into his personal space. He’s handled panic attacks before, he knows how this goes. 

“Well, that’s got for him. Being the bigger man. I’ll just go find a nice lake, okay? Wasn’t aware I was broadcasting my wildest fantasies to the majority of our company.” His hands are starting to fly everywhere as anxiety kicks in, but Scott reacts quickly and holds them down, draining his pain. _Panic is pain?_ Stiles thinks and saves that for later research.

“Wait! Stiles! That’s not what I meant.”

“We’re not talking about this. Just stop sniffing me. It’s rude. Respect the bro code or something. “

“Stiles! Just listen to me.”

“I’m not doing this. I have to go.” And Stiles gets his hands out of Scott’s and doesn’t pause to think that Scott must have allowed him to do it, and gets out of the house and into the jeep, where he proceeds to choke on his breath for good fifteen minutes. He’s a curious teenager, he fantasies about all sorts of things, but that’s it. Nothing more than that. He was already a shitty friend to Lydia, he’s not doing that to Derek too. They are people, not pieces of meat. They deserve better. Stiles, do better! 

Scott doesn’t follow him and he’s oddly grateful for it because he knows Scott is inside, ready to intervene if he needs to but trying to give him his space. He can’t help but notice that he didn’t follow Derek either. If he had, would he have found something similar? Or is Derek too proud to have a random breakdown in his own car? It takes a while for his hands to stop shaking, but as soon as they do, he starts the jeep and drives away, going towards the preserve.

*

He doesn’t know why he came here. Here being the random clearing on the side of the road near the woods. His dad is probably not home yet and he could have just gone there, to the familiar surroundings, to have his little freak out in private. But he didn’t. He doesn’t know the exact place where Scott got bitten. It was somewhere in these woods, somewhere around here that their lives changed forever. A fitting place to wonder what could have been. 

He and dad are okay now, but when he vanished with the Darach, Stiles thought he lost him for good. Lydia is actually talking to him these days, but she's already been hurt so much and neither of them really knows what the whole Banshee thing is going to bring. He’s not sure where he stands in Scott’s pack. He’s the scrawny human in the middle of a supernatural council with a hunter on their side. He’s not smart enough for an emissary, he’s not strong enough to contribute in a fight, and he already said no to the bite. But if he changed his mind … who would he ask? Derek or Scott? And whose pack would that put him in if they agreed? But he doesn’t want to be a werewolf so it’s just useless wondering. 

At least Isaac’s life seems to have gotten better. Even with everything his father has done, it must have hurt to lose him though. Stiles only lost his mother and Heather in his whole life, he doesn’t even remember his grandparents, and Isaac lost his mother, his brother, and his father and probably lost his childhood in the process too, but at least he got some nifty powers out of it. So maybe Isaac’s life has gotten a little better since the whole mess, but Stiles really had nothing to do with it. Derek is the one who chose him and Scott is the one who took him in when he needed help, and Stiles did nothing except mock him for the scarfs. He couldn’t even let that slide. He wonders if any of them even care for him. Would he care for them if he hadn’t landed in the smack middle of the mess?

The passenger door opening startles him from his thoughts. Derek slowly eases himself inside Roscoe. He shuts the door, leans back in his seat, crosses his arms around his chest, and stays silent.

“Ummm, hi Derek. What’s up?”

“I could hear you from a mile away.”

“Oh. Sorry. Wasn’t aware I was being loud.” Stiles is rarely aware that he’s being loud. He usually is loud. “Wasn’t intentional anyway.”

“What are you doing here, Stiles?”

“Just pondering.”

“Here?”

“Yeah. I’ve read claims there is scientific proof that nature has a calming effect on the human brain and is effective in subsiding anxiety.”

“Well, it wasn’t working. You sounded like a bunny regretting his entire existence.”

“Oh”, Stiles says and then continues with “I shall notify the science side of Tumblr they were wrong”, which he then screws it up with a finger gun. _‘Cuz of course._

He feels as if the universe is taking an act of cruel revenge on him, for all the times he talked when he was supposed to be silent because right now he has nothing to say and Derek is looking at him expectantly until eventually he gives up and breaks the silence himself, with the combination of the manliest sigh and roll of the eyes that ever existed.

“Is there is a particular reason you needed a calming surrounding, Stiles?” Derek’s looking at him now, silently patronizing him with the eyebrows, and there is no doubt in Stiles’s mind that he’s listening to his heartbeat too. He doesn’t want to have this conversation with Derek. He knows he can’t lie but he can go around the issue all day long. He’ll make the Seelie queen so proud. 

“May have had a fight with Scott.”

“You are not certain?”

“Well, it wasn’t really a fight. But I still needed to get away to think.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not on the great scale of things. I mean, there’s no murdering unicorn on the loose. Just a misunderstanding.”

“Unicorns aren’t real. And why are you being purposefully obtuse?”

“Why are you being purposefully eloquent? And since when do you know big words anyway?”

Derek’s face closes off and he turns back to stare through the windshield. 

“I have a Masters in English so I assure you that I know plenty of big words. Maybe I just wasn’t willing to share any of them with two idiots who accused me of murdering my sister.”

 _Oh_. They really did that. He was so busy hating Derek that first month that he totally forgot what a dick he was. Is he a good friend to anyone? 

“About that, I’m really sorry. We were so busy figuring the werewolf thing out we may have forgotten to pay attention to other things. Also, sorry for pimping you out to Danny that one time. And for what I said in the hospital, about Kate and Jennifer. It wasn’t your fault. I was just worried about my dad. Anyways, I’m sorry.”

Derek is looking at his sneakers, his brows still slightly furrowed but less than before. Stiles can see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he seems to struggle with all the new information, so Stiles waits him out. He should have done that a long time ago and he can only hope it’s not too late to fix everything. 

“I’m sorry about slamming your head on the steering wheel.”

And apparently, it’s not.

“And for being a dick in the pool. And for trying to kill Lydia that one time. It wasn’t your fault either. I was just under a lot of pressure.”

“The whole Alpha thing … is that less power–trippin’ and more _With great power comes great responsibility_?”

Derek nods, just once, curtly.

“I totally misunderstood that at the time. But I get it now. Why you kicked Isaac out. I also think he understands and he’s forgiven you but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it from you directly.”

Derek is looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Eventually, he nods again, softer than last time, and turns back to staring at his feet. Stiles is fighting a losing battle with his own curiosity.

“So how’s everyone? Peter and … Talia, I mean.”

In the past, when Derek was like this, Stiles always thought he was ignoring him, but given the recent events, he starts wondering whether Derek was just trying to figure out the right thing to say. Not everyone can be Stiles, just randomly blurting out how they feel all the time. 

“Fine. They’re fine.”

“Good. That’s good to hear.” This is the most chit-chatty he has ever seen Derek and he’s unsure for how long he can drag it out. Let it be known to all that Stiles is a risk-taker. “So why were _you_ at the woods on this fine sunny day?”

“We are at the house.”

“Ahh _._ Well, I’m sorry my beating heart dragged you away from your family bonding time. I’ll try not to intrude again.”

“I needed a reason to get out of there anyway.”

And maybe a little more risk-taking? “I see?”

Stiles looks at Derek and is met with the same look Derek had when they found Erica. With utter sorrow reflected in the eyes and his mouth in a tight line. “I can see the color fading already.”

Stiles suddenly feels really guilty for burdening Derek with his problems when he obviously has better things to worry about.

“It’s not going to be a full week, is it?”

“No.”

“Derek, I …’’

But that’s all there is to say. To Derek at least, as he’s the one who opens the door, gets out of the car, and walks away through the woods. And once again, Stiles doesn’t have the courage to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a Shameless reference in there, can you find it?
> 
> Also, I couldn't remember whether it was ever stated what kind of a car Melissa drives on the show so I just decided it's a Honda. Doesn't really affect the plot and it felt like a mom car, so we'll all just live with it okay?


	3. Did You Miss Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!! New chapter two days ahead of schedule.  
> I'm not happy with the fourth one and I've been procrastinating editing it and this felt like a bulletproof way to kick myself into action

The first thing Stiles notices after opening his eyes is a portion of curly fries on his nightstand. The second thing he notices is Derek Hale sitting by the desk, going through his most recent history essay. Derek seems to be reading carefully, not just skimming through. Stiles knows his heartbeat and breathing must have given him away by now, but if Derek is willing to pretend, Stiles isn’t going to point it out. Instead, he‘s enjoying the view. Derek is, for a lack of a better word, _lounging_ in the chair, his legs crossed and propped up on the side of the desk. His left-hand rests on his stomach while his right one slowly scrolls down the page. He looks more relaxed than yesterday, more relaxed than the whole last year actually, and this time Stiles wins the fight against his mouth and keeps silently watching him. Watches him for two pages more, until Derek stops and colors the entire sentence red. 

“There is no way you found a mistake there. I proofread that like ten times and even got a B on it. And I’ll have you know that it’s a really strict professor so it’s not like he just skimmed through it. Nobody ever gets a C, let alone a B.”

“If you had changed this paragraph in time, you could have gotten an A”, Derek mutters.

Stiles gets out of bed and furiously walks over to the desk. He leans over Derek’s shoulder to see what he deemed unsatisfactory. He rereads the sentence about Napoleon three times and still feels confused. 

“What exactly is wrong with it?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it per se, but you phrased it wrong. You’ve linked three similar events in his life, nicely spotted I’ll give you that, but the circumstances that led to each are completely different and you should have elaborated further. This should have been multiple paragraphs at first, before drawing a comparison in a final point. This way it feels unfinished.”

Stiles has never felt this insulted in his life. His father stopped reading his homework around fifth grade because he couldn’t follow at least thirty percent of it, and Scott had never bothered again after the Romanian Serial Killers phase in the third.

“I also found some typos.”

“You’re a giant typo!”, he mutters just before grabbing his clothes and leaving to have a shower. He’s willing to admit it’s not his best comeback, just not to Derek.

*

Following the angriest shower ever, the curly fries that were still in his room when he returned helped turn him into a human again. Even cold, they were magical. Do you know what else is magical? Caffeine! Stiles goes down to the kitchen, only to find Derek drinking a cup of coffee while reading his father’s newspapers. And there goes his mood. 

“How would you write it, Mr. English Lit.?”, Stiles goes to grab a cup only to find his favorite one missing.

“I’ve already poured you one.” Derek is still reading the same page.

“What?” He settles for another cup and reaches for the coffee pot only to find it empty. 

Derek lifts his favorite cup from the chair next to him. “You get the coffee and the explanation if you do me a favor.”

Stiles reaches for the coffee twice but Derek moves it out of the way both times. He would attribute it to werewolf speed, but to be honest, he’s not on his best game today. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“There’s a necklace in the evidence box at the station and I need your help getting it.”

“You want me to steal evidence from a police room? Are you insane?”

Derek raises one perfect eyebrow to silently remind him of the ridiculous situations they seem to continuously find themselves in. It works like a charm. 

“You’re driving.”

*

They figure out the plan fairly quickly on the ride over. The plan is probably a strong word for _all the deputies know me anyway and are used to me so I’ll just pretend I’m going to talk to my dad and grab it without anyone getting suspicious_ , but it’s more detailed than the majority of Derek’s plans in the past so he’s still calling it a plan. Derek gave him the specifics before he went in and other than a fifteen second period where he was staring at Laura’s picture and noticing similarities between her and Talia, it goes smoothly.

They are driving back to his house as the adrenaline is winding down and Stiles urgently needs to occupy his thoughts with something else.

“Can I ask you something?” Derek glances at him and then turns his eyes back to the road before he makes a hand movement to indicate a _go-ahead_. 

“It’s kinda private, I mean, so feel free to tell me off. But I was just wondering … is it like … is she like … the same person?” 

Derek looks like he’s already regretting this whole experience, but Stiles can’t stop now.

“I mean … does she act like before or what? Does she like the same things? Same food? Wait, does she even eat?”

Derek makes a left turn, far more gently then he usually does, and if Stiles hadn’t driven with him before he would think they are carrying precious cargo, but he has long ago learned that Derek’s reckless driving is just an act, and right now he doesn’t seem to have the energy to keep up with it. 

When the answer finally comes it sounds far too placid. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know if she eats?”

“She eats, but it’s not real hunger, just something to do to pass the time. That’s not what I meant.”

“You don’t know …if she’s the same?” Stiles makes an aborted hand gesture.

“I blocked out a lot from … before.”

“Oh.” As much as he wants to ask for more clarification, Stiles has no heart to continue putting the current look on Derek’s face or the time to do it. Derek gently slides into the driveway and turns the engine off. 

“Well, thanks for the ride, and good luck with the necklace business.” Stiles moves to open the door but Derek surprises him once again.

“Do you ever think what will happen after you die?” He’s staring at the steering wheel, with one hand still on it, clutching it tightly, while the other one, made into a fist, rests on his thigh. He supposes it makes sense Derek’s thinking about it. Stiles spent days reading every religion’s idea of heaven after his mom died and felt none the wiser after it. It feels like he only has one chance to get this right but no right answer.

“Sometimes.”

“And?”

 _Really, I’m the one you’re asking? Pretty sure you have a better candidate_ seems like a bulletproof way to get Derek to never talk to him again, so he goes for a second option.

“I like the way Supernatural handled it. Like there’s an infinite loop of all your favorite days and you get to re-live them over and over again, feeling the same joy. If I had to be stuck in the same place for eternity, I would probably get rather bored watching random angels joyously play the harp at me.”

Derek looks up and his face seems more open somehow. “I never liked harp music. Laura used to say it sounds like plucking feathers out of a golden goose one by one.” He shivers slightly at the mention, and Stiles wants to hear more about that association just as he wants to keep looking at that smile on Derek’s face. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“No?”

“Not soul wise but earth-wise. Like … like what would happen to your father? Scott? Grandparents? What would they do? How would they feel?”

Stiles remembers whiskey bottles all over the house, the smell of hospital following him everywhere for a month, movies he used to recite start to finish but suddenly couldn’t stand and everything being a little bit late and a little bit off (laundry at weekends instead of Wednesdays, lunch at three instead of one, bedtime whenever instead of eight). Still to this day, meatloaf tastes off. 

“Well I have no grandparents, so that’s easy. And I’ve seen my dad after he lost my mom, so I think it would be similar if not worse considering he would be all alone this time. I’m not sure about Scott.”

“I didn’t mean to remind you.” Derek still seems intent on staring at his hand.

“That’s okay. It’s been years. And it’s a fair question. I’m a proper source or something. I don’t think Isaac counts. That went wrong to the maximum.”

Derek gives a small nod at that. “I’m a born werewolf. Earlier, I never thought much about my own mortality. Later, we were too busy trying to get away to think about anything else, and then Laura was gone too and I was left to make sense of that. So I never really thought about what I’m leaving behind.”

“And now?”

The hand on Derek’s thigh turns to reveal a full set of claws but Stiles no longer feels the trepidation he felt that night at the pool while Derek was destroying a basketball. He understands now what Derek meant when he said that bite is a gift. He wonders if Derek ever even saw it as a weapon until it was used against him.

“It’s different with Isaac around. Pack bonds have multiple ways of carrying on.” Swift hand movement puts the claws away as Derek leans back in his seat.

“Someone to remember you, I suppose.” Stiles decides to continue with a joke to try to lighten the mood. “Just for the record, I expect you to stay around for a long time. I still can’t handle Scott on my own.”

“I promise I’ll try, Stiles.” The smile is back in full force and suddenly Stiles feels a little bit warmer despite the cold car and the cold October air outside. 

“You better. If I die young, Scott can’t be only one missing my wonderful inputs in our little ragtag idea of a pack.”

And as easily as that, Stiles screws everything up. Derek looks disappointed. Stiles hates that he put that expression there. Derek deserves infinite joy, as far as he’s concerned. He’s suffered enough. They are both frozen in their seats, as Stiles’s neighbors start fidgeting around their garden, moving the chair set towards the garage door, to protect it from the impending rain. 

Derek is the first to compose himself.

“Stiles”, he pauses and swallows strongly before he continues, “Stiles, if one has ever known you, one has no choice but to constantly miss you”.

Stiles chokes up a little, feels the beginning of something warm well up deep inside, but since nothing will ever come close in response to that, he says nothing and just nods once as he glances at Derek one last time before he opens the door and gets out of the car. He walks slowly to his door, hoping and praying to whatever heaven, god or deity there is that Derek is braver than him, that he chooses to follow him, and continues hoping even as he walks inside, shuts the door behind him and when he hears Derek slowly back out of his driveway and drive away, he feels all hope die inside and suddenly he’s colder than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pack bonds have multiple ways of carrying on. - I saw this sentence in a different fic years ago and it kind of stuck with me. If someone could tell me what fic it was that would be great.


	4. Tell Me The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have a chapter yall

Morning is looking bleak, courtesy of last night’s torrential downpour that left everything soaked to the bone with a hint of muddy for good luck. If Stiles hadn’t already made a game plan of confronting his history teacher about additional changes to his paper, he would just burrow even deeper under the covers and continue avoiding everyone like he’s been doing since yesterday. 

But alas, just like Sunday did, Monday also brings him a surprise visitor. Scott is crawling through his window, leaving mud all over the window sill and probably the outside wall too and Stiles just knows his father will be pissed. “If you’re coming in peace, destroying my façade is a horrible way to do it.”

Scott looks sheepish for a moment, tracing his finger through the remaining brown trace and seemingly deciding it’ll come off easy enough. “I’ll help you clean”, he says as he sits in Stiles’s chair and wiggles around a little like he’s looking for something. “So … how you doin’?” Horrible Joey impression really, but Stiles lets it slide. 

“Simultaneously regretting running away last time and wishing I could run away again.” Stiles’s voice is muffled between the covers but loud enough that even a human could hear him. 

“It’s okay. I realized it probably felt like an ambush. Mind sharing a ride to school?”

“I mind getting out of this bed.” 

Scott silently judges him from the chair where he’s playing with traces of mud under his nails before he smirks. “And miss spaghetti meatballs?”

That’s a sure way to get his attention. Stiles pokes his head out of the covers and tries not to dwell too long on the fact he probably looks like a meerkat looking for insects. “Who’s your source?”

“Greenberg’s aunt knows one of the lunch ladies, remember? Seniors may be planning some sort of a prank and got her to cooperate. ”

“Well, I’m not missing that.” He’s already getting out of the bed.

“Go shower. I’ll get coffee and wait for you in the jeep.”

Stiles doesn’t need to be told twice.

*

As promised, Scott is sitting in Roscoe, holding Stiles’s cup and typing on his phone. He hands the cup to Stiles before making an impressed sound. 

“Did you turn off your phone or did you somehow manage to stay off all social media for more than 20 hours?”

“Like I would ever turn off my phone deliberately. Someone could need me. Something could happen. My dad would be worried sick.” Scott is looking at him expectantly. “I plugged the router out and stashed it in my dad’s bedroom. He thought it was a new heart monitor gadget I would make him wear everywhere.”

That pulls a laugh out of both of them. They continue sitting in a slightly elevated mood, Stiles drinking coffee and Scott playing with a roll of duct tape he pulled out of a stash somewhere. He looks at the time on the dashboard and says: “We have about five minutes until we need to move. Is that enough time to explain why your chair smells like Derek, or should I just ignore it until the free period?”

“Just my chair?”

“It’s everywhere a little bit, but it’s stronger around the desk. He was probably sitting there for a while, that’s why I was able to pick up on it there the most.”

Stiles is trying to find something useful to say, but his brain fails him once again. 

“I can ignore it permanently if you want.” Scott, forever the best friend no one deserves.

“Can you ignore it until after school? I don’t think it’s safe for me to have this conversation while driving and I don’t wanna do it at school.”

Scott makes a _hmm_ sound and since Stiles can’t find anything else to do, he inserts the key into the slot and turns, bringing Roscoe to life.

*

The food fight is as legendary as expected and almost makes the detention fully worth it. It’s nearing seven before Scott and Stiles make it back to the house. They gorge on pizza rolls as they watch the Jaws and Stiles wonders how long the teachers will continue to be outraged about the spaghetti sauce all over ceilings.

“Mr. Jacobs was fuming. She got all red in the face and shit.” Scott is currently getting red in the face as he’s wheezing with laughter while trying to swallow another pizza roll. “I haven’t seen anyone that mad since the new principal saw the shit Gerard left behind.” Stiles has been keeping the conversation on the topic of school, partially because he missed the normal crap Scott and he used to get up to before the whole “wolf boy” thing happened, and partially because he knows what topic he promised and he’s hoping Scott forgot. And maybe the pigs will start flying, but that’s highly unlikely too so he might as well just rip off the band-aid. 

“You’re gonna make me start, won’t you?” Scott smirks at him, proving that he didn’t forget, and waits. “This whole True Alpha thing of yours is sometimes annoying.” Another smirk, another pizza roll. “Just so you know I long for the days our conversations were about Legos and monster trucks.” Scott shows no sign of slowing down with pizza rolls. Damn werewolf metabolism. “Hey, remember that one time I punched Jackson?” 

“Stiiiiles!”

“Alright, alright. Jeez. What’s the rush?”

“I’ll let it slide if you want, but considering you worked yourself into a panic attack last time I don’t think it’s healthy to keep this bottled up.”

“Look, Scott, buddy, I told you, I have a very imaginative mind that likes to run in wild directions.”

“Stiles, it’s okay. I’ve never cared.”

“Cared about what? Nothing is happening.”

“Okay fine, nothing is happening. I’m merely pointing out that if someone within our friend group ended up being not entirely straight that would be very much okay with me.”

“Good for you, Scotty. Progressive thinking.”

“And if maybe someone had a bit of a soft spot for a certain werewolf in the group, I would advise that someone to maybe say something about it to that werewolf.”

“Here I must disagree. Derek should not be dating. At least not on his own. He had tried and it had ended badly, which is why he needs some time to clear his head and … consider his options.”

“And Derek has told you this?” Stiles knows he’s not fooling anyone with this, Scott the least of all if his amused expression is the indicator.

“Well not in so many words. You’ve met him, he’s not a guy of many words. I just think that he deserves a chance to make his own decisions. Do you think Derek’s had a lack of people taking advantage of him? Because if you do, I would like to disagree, aggressively so.”

“Do you think someone’s taking advantage of him?”

“Well no but I did accuse him of murdering his sister within days of meeting him. Didn’t even give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Technically, _I_ accused him of murdering his sister, the janitor, the bus driver, and a couple of others and you went along with it because we were locked inside a high school while Peter worked through an agenda to make me kill you all. Fun times. I win. ”

„So you _do_ wanna talk about that time I punched Jackson? ”

„Stiles!!!! 

“Dude, his _mom_ is back from the dead. His mom, who was murdered by his ex-girlfriend along with the rest of his family. I think he has better things to think about right now and not look for a date, nor would he be interested in a random hookup. Now that he found Cora again he’s probably focusing on her, he doesn’t need anyone ruining that.”

“So you’re giving him space to figure himself out?”

“Moi? Who mentioned me, buddy? I’m just your friendly neighborhood Stiles, actively making sure no one dates a serial killer again.”

Stiles proceeds to list all the ways and reasons why Derek’s life is officially the worst, ignoring Scott’s protests until he exhausts himself and they fall into silence. Pizza rolls have gone cold, the monster shark on the TV has been dealt with, and they are left in silence. Scott is making his serious face, and Stiles knows this conversation is far from over.

“So … if Derek had some time to think all this over and if he were to decide that maybe he’s ready to date again, would there be a suitable candidate?”

“Well, we would have to check her first.”

“Her?”

“Yeah. Maybe take her to Deaton’s, see if she passes the mountain ash test.”

Scott stares at him dubiously. Stiles is so not selling this.

“Okay, fine. Assuming this _person_ has been thoroughly vetted by all of us, and Derek liked _them_ …”

“Then good for them. I’ll even buy them a congratulatory present. Not like a sex toy, something decent. A bowl.”

Stiles hopes his grin hides the crack in his heart enough that Scott doesn’t question him further. He remembers a second two late that Scott could recognize his lies way before he became a creature of the night. It came with the title of a best friend. Which of course means Scott can smell his bullshit from a mile. 

Thankfully for Stiles, Scott is not a cruel person.

“Alright, I give up. You have a lot of fantasies in your head, you prefer to keep them in there, Derek needs a friend, I need a drink that actually makes a difference.”

“Would Mario Kart make you feel better?”

“Well, we can try.”

They move to Stiles’s room and relish in the fact they can still pretend they are those kids who met on the playground, when everything was a lot simpler, when the world didn’t seem intent on breaking them apart. It’s a comforting silence for a couple of hours, broken only with the calls for a rematch.

Soon enough it’s getting late and as Stiles is walking Scott to the door he can tell his friend has more to say. 

“See you tomorrow, buddy?”

“Yeah. Hey, can you do me a favor? Can you go talk to Derek? I’ll apologize for the Gerard thing but the rest … I think he would take it better coming from you.”

“You sure about that buddy? I think I was just the lesser of two evils back then.”

“No, you weren’t. He wanted me because I was a werewolf and he needed a pack, but he always liked you better.”

“Is that the nose talking?” Stiles asks as he opens the door for the Alpha.

“No, that’s just my keen observation skills,” Scott smirks and makes a move to leave but stops himself and turns to Stiles again. “My nose says … that the way Isaac smells around Allison, Derek smells that way too.”

“Derek likes Allison?”

Scott’s amused expression screams _you idiot_. Stiles has never before been the slow one in this friendship, it’s a new feeling for him.

“No, Stiles, not Allison.” 

“Buddy, I’m so lost, I’m three seconds away from having my picture on a milk carton. What are you talking about?”

“Derek smells the same around _you_.”

“And … “, it takes Stiles solid five seconds for the meaning to sink in, but he’s preoccupied to care “… that’s the way Isaac and Allison smell around each other, so …”

Scott waits him out for a second longer before he tells him to think about it and crossed the threshold and skips down the stairs. Stiles yells after him and sees him wince at the noise.

“So like … Derek _like_ likes me?”

Scott makes a hand gesture that Stiles interprets as _yeah, who could have anticipated that_. Stiles tries very hard not to be insulted.

*

Stiles avoids his father on the pretext of homework. They both see right through it but neither comments on it. Things have been awkward since well … since werewolves. The sheriff got the full resume of everything that’s happened since Stiles dragged his best friend in search of a dead body. Took a while to persuade him not to go searching for Gerard, mostly because Stiles didn’t like the idea of his father going to jail, not because he had any sympathy for the man. For all Stiles cares, he can rot in hell. There was even a vivid dream. Not a nightmare mind you, but a dream of him being strapped to four hellhounds and Stiles yelling _March_! He’s still ashamed to admit how much pleasure that got him. 

But Sheriff doesn’t know about darkness, what it took to save him, and Melissa, and Argent, and Stiles would very much like to keep it that way. One less thing to worry about and all that.

So they avoid each other around the house. Pretend like the both aren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. The sheriff tries not to be too strict when Stiles is out late at night, and Stiles pretends he can’t hear phone conversations between his father and Melissa. They both allow themselves the resemblance of normalcy even if they don’t feel it in their bones, even if their smiles don’t quite reach their eyes. 

Stiles leaves his father skipping channels, and hears his phone ring before he’s even halfway on the stars. He skips the other half and lands on his bed, pressing the green before even checking the caller. 

“Hello?”

“Hi.” Holy crap, it’s Derek. Derek is calling him. Well, Derek was calling him, Stiles answered so now Derek is technically talking to him so he should probably … talk. Crap. Is someone dying?

“Heeyy, Scott. Yeah, just working on it now. How did you start?” Stiles says loudly while closing the door.

“What?”

“Sorry, I was just making sure my dad can’t hear us.”

“I thought he knew.”

“Well he does, but …” Stiles trails off in a sigh.

“I seem to recall my name on a chess piece.”

“No, he knows, I’m just trying to control _how_ much he knows. There is no reason to put him in an early grave for something I can handle on my own. Speaking of, I didn’t mention the whole witch business or the result since I figured we’re not expecting any more surprise visitors so I’d appreciate if that and the evidence theft stayed between us.”

“No problem. That’s actually why I’m calling. I wanted to say thank you.”

“For what, I didn’t do anything. Well, besides the actual theft. But the idea was all you, buddy.” Why does he keep calling people buddy? What is this shit? Is he turning into a dad? He spreads out on his bed, lulled into a sense of security not that he knows this is not an emergency call.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I could have gotten it without you, and it meant a lot to … her to see it again so… thank you.”

“Oh, so it’s like a family heirloom or something like that?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, it was my pleasure. I’m always in favor of a little rule-breaking, especially if it’s for a good cause.”

“Okay. And sorry again about the car thing, I didn’t mean to remind you, and it’s not like you’re the expert on what’s left when everyone dies, I just…”

No, I’m not, Stiles wants to say. He lost his mom but it was years ago and he had months to prepare for it; there was even a therapist he talked to. Derek lost everyone, so suddenly, so violently, and then Laura too, only to be hit with the Peter bombshell. It’s no wonder he was a little messed up later. 

“It’s okay. I understand.” Stiles remembers the night, how he wished he had stayed, and wishes he talked to Derek a long time ago. He thinks it could have made his life a lot easier. A lot more enjoyable too, if the current warm feeling in his stomach is anything to go by. He thinks back to what Scott had said. “I’m here if you just wanna talk.”

“That would probably be nice. You always seem to be … _have_ the answers I’m looking for.”

His heart does a little thump on that _be,_ wonders how differently that sentence could have gone. What is he to Derek? He tries to find something meaningful to say back but only comes up with weird king of my chess board metaphors. Once again, Derek Hale has left him speechless but with a tiny spark of hope in his heart of darkness this time. Stiles holds on to that spark, feeling it for the first time since he had finished that mountain ash line, and think that maybe it wouldn’t be such a horrible idea after all. 

“Well anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. I won’t keep you.”

“Anytime, Derek. I mean it.”

“Okay. Good night, Stiles.”

“Good night.”

For the second time in the last two days, Stiles finds himself feeling something more for Derek Hale. It is not obsessive love he's had for Lydia for years or the familiar possessiveness he feels over Scott or the never-ending devotion he has for his father but it is there. Something big, just out of his reach, but close and ever-present and if he extends his hand a little further he could grab it, hold it close, embrace it and never let go. He feels it healing him, warming him up and he’s already afraid of losing something he doesn’t even have yet but he wants this. He’s willing to risk everything to have it. He lies on his side, holds his phone to his ear, and imagines he can hear Derek's slow breathing across the line, across the town until he falls asleep. It’s the best sleep he’s had in a month.


	5. Face Your Demons, They Love You

Tuesday morning has somehow managed to look even worse than Monday one. It deserves a Best Picture Oscar for its effort. Midnight brought a thin coat of snow, but the early morning rain destroyed it, leaving just a light residue behind. Every single step Stiles takes produces a wet, slurping sound that makes him feel like he’s making his way through a sewer instead of a driveway. He hates the smudges left on Roscoe but doesn’t have the time to clean them properly. And dammit, Scott did NOT help him clean the mud from yesterday. His dad is going to kill him. 

He’s alone today. No visitors of any kind and he’s disappointed. 

He can’t leave it like this. Now that he had his first taste he wants more. He could have so much more. He hates himself a little because if Derek’s not on the same page he knows it’s over, this tentative sentimentality they’ve fallen into. They surely won’t be able to look past it and he seems to trust Stiles who is ready to risk it all for something his father will never approve of, nor will anyone’s pack, not to mention how it could be used against every single one of them in the future. This is a bad idea, this is a horrible idea. Probably the worst idea he’s ever had, searching for a dead body or jumping into a pool to escape a kanima included.

But he wants it. He wants it so bad. He allows himself a daydream in which he skips school, goes to the loft, and spends the day looking into Derek’s eyes, feeling content, but eventually starts the engine and drives out of his driveway thinking that it’s for the best he has a chemistry test today. He parks the car and makes way down the path when he sees Isaac walking up the stairs and decides to be a bigger person. 

“Hey, dude.” Replacing buddy with a dude, good job Stiles, you are not a dad, you are a surfer!

“Sup! Hey, you heard from Derek?”

“ Ahhh not since two days ago. Why?” He keeps last night’s conversation a secret since he doesn’t think it makes a difference. Isaac doesn’t look worried so he’s probably not asking out of concern that someone is dead. 

“Haven’t seen him since everything went down so I was just wondering.”

“Oh. I wasn’t aware. I thought you just spent that one night at Scott’s and went back in the morning.”

“No, I’m still there. But Derek texted me to come tonight so I’m not sure what I’m walking into.”

“It’s probably nothing bad. Maybe Talia wants to meet you, see how the legendary Hale pack bond is continuing.”

“Great, thanks!”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. No pressure dude. I’m just saying it’s probably nothing bad.”

“Probably not. He would have called if anyone was in immediate danger.”

“There you go, dude.” _Seriously?_ ”Keep up the optimism.”

Isaac is laughing so Stiles feels like he’s not screwing this up too much. Then he thinks of something he’s been meaning to ask for a while.

“Hey, umm, are you like back with Derek? For a while there, it seemed like you were crossing over to Team McCall.”

“Yeah, it kinda felt that way for me too. But then Scott was grounded, that one time a couple of months back, and I randomly ran into Derek at a diner. And … I don’t know. He was also buying for one. We stood in line, chatted about nothing in particular but it felt good to be spending time with him. Comfortable, familiar. We sort of needed each other. The bond was still there. And let’s be real, no one should be alone with Peter, that’s just a recipe for disaster.”

“Yeah, I was thinking something similar the other day. We should probably do something about that.” 

“Probably. Anyway, we’ve been talking a lot more since then. He apologized for some things yesterday. That was weird. But we’re cool.”

While Isaac struggles with his locker combination, Stiles thinks that maybe Derek has a friend, someone he found a while ago without Stiles noticing. Overall, he’s glad for it. He’s not sure what it means for the pack hierarchy, but he thinks it’d be good for Derek. He sees Allison waiting for Isaac, waves at her, sees her wave back, and inquires how that’s going but eventually parts ways with the young Beta. He’s glad they’re happy even if that means Scott’s going to be heartbroken for a little longer. They deserved a win. 

He reunites with the Alpha in question at math. Tells him that Derek already has a friend, and ignores the blank look he gets in return. Walks into Mr. Krugler in the hallway. Jackass has the nerve to tell him he was so close to giving him an A on his last essay that it caused him physical pain. Stiles refrains from asking whether Derek’s suggestion was correct. His dad liked that B very much, he would prefer it not being turned into a C because Stiles was annoying during recess. 

The rest of the day is rather uneventful. Scott doesn’t point out how jittery his leg is under the table during biology. Isaac and Allison join them for lunch. Lydia smiles at him across the cafeteria. Everything is calm. Stiles hates it.

*

Stiles is not a patient person. 

He had accepted this. Whenever he bugged his father about getting him a dog, he lasted around an hour before switching to a PlayStation. Or a trampoline. Or a skateboard. His infatuation with Lydia was probably the longest he had spent working towards a single goal. 

That being said, Stiles has a feeling he won’t let this one go any time soon. By the time his last class ends and the bell rings he has done a pro and con list for _going after Derek Hale_ , and after he settled on the pro part of the deal, he imagined every way this could go wrong including Derek laughing in his face, faceless ninjas bursting through the windows, stabbing them both to death, and finding his father already there standing over Derek’s corpse, filled with wolfsbane bullets. Or finding his father already there; naked.

He still wants this. 

He sprints out of the school, ignores the weird looks (not like they haven’t seen worse from him), and practically throws himself into his Jeep. This will be great. They will be great. 

So Stiles is not a patient person. So what? The sooner the better.

*

Sadly, Stiles is a person whose face the universe likes to look at and think _oh yay something to laugh in._

Camaro is parked out front, which is a good sign. He jogs up the stairs, berates his shitty stamina when he has to stop at the second floor to catch a breath, but eventually reaches the loft. He knocks twice and gets no answer so he knocks again. When he’s met with silence the second time, he refuses to see it as a bad sign. Stiles is not a patient person, but he _is_ a persistent person. Almost to a fault. 

He lets himself in, wondering where Derek could be when he spots the man in question sitting on top of the stairs. He wonders whether hope smells like something to werewolves. He wonders if that’s how he smells to Derek right now.

“Hey!” He points out just to seem polite: “I knocked.”

“I heard.”

Derek not looking at him is crumbling his resolve pretty efficiently. 

“Sooo … what’s up, Sourwolf?”

“Go away, Stiles. I’m not in the mood for you right now.”

 _Crap!_ Was Scott wrong? Maybe Derek doesn’t like Stiles any more than he likes his leather jacket. Stiles really should have asked more questions.

“In the mood for what, big guy? I just came to say hi.”

“Obviously. That why you smell like that?” Crumbling hope clearly smells like something, that’s his answer right there. 

“Ok not fair. Everyone needs to stop smelling me. Very rude. How would you like if I were to smell you all time?”

“I imagine you’d be insufferable about it, much like about everything else.”

“Derek …”

“What are you doing here, Stiles? I don’t want you here, you don’t belong here, and you’re wasting my time.”

It’s not new information. Stiles knows this about himself already. But coming from Derek? It was bound to hurt. Coming after yesterday, after last night? It hurts like the entirety of the past year all at once.

There’s no point trying to save face. Derek knew it would hurt, it’s painted all over his face that he said it with the intention to inflict a maximum amount of damage. Did Scott tell him? Isaac? Or could he smell him all along and decided to push Stiles away before it goes too far? Message received. 

Stiles turns to leave, choosing to go with grace instead of begging for the truth. The truth will set you free? Bullcrap. Truth is vindictive, ruthless, brutal. Give him white lies any day. He will never tell his father how much he hated him after his mother died, how he cursed at the skies to take either or both of them but bring her back. He will never tell Lydia how much it hurt seeing her hug Jackson after their love literally overpowered supernatural forces. How much it hurt that Allison knew what was happening in her basement to the same kids she passed in the hallways.

Lies protect him. Lies are what he has. So he needs to leave.

“You’ll give up that easily? I expected more from you, Stiles.”

“Oh, I think I’ve exceeded your expectations already. You’ve expected me to be gone a long time now.”

“Is that so?”

“No one else lining up behind you, so yeah I think so.”

It’s cruel, he knows. But if Derek thinks he’s the only one who can push where it hurts, he is wrong. There is a reason Stiles always gets Slytherin on quizzes. Stiles _is_ cruel. He lashes out, pushes buttons you didn’t even know you had. He sees a bruise and pokes it until it becomes a festering wound. He may be just a human, but he can play the role of the big bad wolf without breaking a sweat. And Derek walked right into his den.

“You think you’re fooling anyone with this act, Derek? A big macho guy who doesn’t care about anyone? Bullshit! What the hell are _you_ still doing here? Why haven’t you left Beacon Hills? Where is Talia? Pack her up in the Camaro and leave.”

“She left.”

“What, she chose Peter over you? Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“No … she’s gone. She faded away this morning.”

He hasn’t been afraid of Derek for months. Probably since he protected him from Isaac at the station. But right now, seeing him strut down the stairs, staring at Stiles like he’s prey about to be devoured? He’s terrified. Derek’s eyes are glowing their original blue, but Stiles sees red. 

“You think you’re so smart, that you have everything figured out. You’re a kid Stiles, a stupid kid who got it in his head he can make a difference. Well, you can’t, you’ll die! You’ll break your dad’s heart, send Scott on a revenge path that’ll get him killed, and make Lydia scream herself hoarse. Eventually, you’ll be just an old headline, another victim of an animal attack. No one will remember you. You. Don’t. Matter. YOU. ARE. NOTHING.”

Stiles is not stupid. He knows what this is. Derek’s lashing out to protect himself. It wasn’t always just Stiles and Scott. He used to have a lot of friends. After his mom died he pushed them all away. It was easier that way. He couldn’t stand the pitying looks, the favors, the silences. Scott was just too persistent to be chased away.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You think I give a shit what you think?”

“Not just this, for everything. For Kanima, for …”

“What, not letting me drown? The only reason I was in that pool is that I was protecting you. Quid pro quo. Well, I guess we’re done here.”

“Would you just listen to me for a second!!? I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry for being a dick when we first met, for every crappy thing I said, did, or imagined about you. Okay, I’m sorry. I made a lot of mistakes, I get that. But … there isn’t much I wouldn’t give for another chance with my mom, and I was kind of weirdly happy about you getting that chance because deep down I believe you are a decent person who deserves good thing, and I’m sorry that’s not the way the world sees it. So I’m sorry, Derek. I hope you at least got some closure.”

His outburst actually makes Derek stop and stare and Stiles is painfully reminded of the night when Talia came back, how Derek looked standing by the windows, and he doesn’t need werewolf powers to know Derek’s heart is beating the same fast rhythm. How he wishes he stayed, how he wished he followed. He prays to whatever deity there is to give him a chance to set this right. 

“Derek, please …”

“You must be kidding! Closure? I've never been so awkward in front of anyone. Imagine a dinner where Peter is the most affectionate, chatty person and you have the last few days in a nutshell. I had days to tell her everything I've wanted to say in the last six years. Every thought that has plagued me, every nightmare that has chased me and I didn't. I couldn’t say a word.”

“So she doesn’t know? How she died?”

“What’s the point? She wasn’t real, she was just a projection of my mind. It wouldn’t have given her any peace.”

“It could have given you peace.”

“I don’t deserve peace!! I did this. I was a stupid kid who convinced himself Kate cared for me. She didn’t! She used me. I wish I was in that house, I wish I burned with the rest of them. It would have been better.”

“No, it wouldn’t have! You wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have …”

“What, Stiles? What do you want!?”

“YOU!, you idiot! I want you”, Stiles exclaims, and all of a sudden he thinks _fuck it_ , and plasters himself to Derek’s front, hugging him and willing the world to slow down for a second, to give them both a chance to catch up. _Heart over head_ , he reminds himself. His mother used to say it a lot. She was all heart. Stiles chose to be all head. He thought it was safer that way. Perhaps it is. He knows what his dad is going to say, Scott, the rest of the school, the rest of _town_. He doesn’t care.

“Stiles …”, Derek’s voice is soft and quiet. Stiles hears him perfectly. He hears _this is private property_ , and _you need me_ , and _i’m going to rip your throat out - with my teeth_. It sounds like music in his ears. He can see the opera house, the choir, fat lady singing to her dying lover. It’s a perfect sonata. He feels the warmth on his chest, the stubble on his forehead, and Derek’s breaths above him. He’s pulled to present by a car honking outside. It takes him a second to catch his breath and he revels in the fact that Derek’s hands have found their way to his back. He doesn’t share it out loud. 

“Derek, I know this is probably the worst timing in the history of timings, so just … ignore the way I smell, what I said, and tell me about your mom?”

He doesn’t expect to get an answer. It feels too much like wishful thinking.

“I don’t remember the last thing I said to her,” he can feel Derek’s intake of breath more than he can hear it, “not just now, but before the fire too. She was a good Alpha but a distant mother. Always in pack business, never home. My father was in charge of bedtime stories, and birthday parties, and cookies for bake sales. She was strict where he was mellow. We knew she loved us, but we also knew never to expect too much fondness from her. He was there to console us after bad grades, and breakups, and injuries. He was a wolf but he was more in touch with his human side. She was there to control shifts, set boundaries, and teach us wolf etiquette. They were a perfect pair.”

“Soulmates”, Stiles whispers.

Derek does nothing but pull him closer, hold him tighter.

In the most unexpected twist of fate in Stiles’s life, he has nothing left to say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much left to go, guys!


	6. Luck Favors The Brave Hearted Ones

He forgot to close the drapes the night before which is why there’s a stream of sunlight hitting his eyes, blinding him permanently. Okay. He’s exaggerating. He’s not blind. He’s shocked at the appearance of the morning sun, first of its kind after a long week of cloudiness and occasional downpours. When Stiles scoots a bit to the left he distances his face away from the brightness but leaves his palm in its path and savors the warmth, imagines grabbing it tightly with his fist, letting it touch his fingers, flowing to his wrist, following the road of his forearm and circling his shoulder before settling around his heart. His heart, which is no longer so crushingly surrounded, but instead feels like a first green sprout after a cold hard winter, announcing that _yes, there is life here, still._ It's a lot of pressure to put on a hand. But that’s the hand that was on Derek Hale’s neck last night. He’d say he’s never washing that hand again but that’d be disgusting. 

After the hug that lasted an eternity, awkwardness had started to seep in. Taking a step back Stiles tried to subtly wipe the tears from his eyes with his sleeve and Derek stared at the floor, pretending to be unaffected. 

Stiles was unsure why he had cried. Perhaps because Derek finally threw him a bone, broke down the walls, and shared something personal, allowing Stiles into his heart. Maybe he was crying for that teenager who thought he was in love only to have his heart ripped out and the rest of his world crushed to ash and dust. Part of the reason must have been his own memories, his mom mingling together with Derek’s, finding little nooks in which they could both fit until it felt like they had shared experiences from their respective childhoods, like they had been part of each other’s lives from the start. 

They both stood mere inches from each other, struggling to find something to say. He was uncertain who spoke first. Stiles remembers only he small smile on Derek’s face, the quiet _yeah_ when Stiles asked if he was okay, his own _of course_ when Derek asked if they can talk tomorrow. 

It’s now officially tomorrow. The metaphorical ball is in Derek’s court. Stiles laid all his cards on table and it’s now up to Derek to accept the stakes or to fold. And as much as he’s willing to bet on Derek being interested, as much as his best friend swayed the decision in that direction, Stiles can’t help but feel it’s a fifty-fifty chance. Seventy-forty, if asked on a bad day. It's usually a bad day.

His musings are interrupted by his father, barging into his room, wearing a uniform and a stern look.

“What the hell happened to the wall?”

 _Crap_. The mud. Stiles forgot to hose it down. 

“That was Scott but yeah, I’m on it, don’t worry”, Stiles says while he drags himself out of bed.

“Like I shouldn’t worry about where the hell you were last night?” His father is sporting what Stiles calls his _I-mean-business_ face, standing at his door gripping the door handle like a gun.

“I was at Derek’s. I’m sorry I was late it won’t happen again.”

“Is something going on that I should know about?” The mention of Derek’s name softens something in the Sheriff. His entire posture relaxes, hands move to pockets. 

“No.” Stiles pops his spine before adding, “Well, there was but it’s over now.”

“No casualties?”

“No, it wasn’t that kind of situation.”

“That’s good. I’m glad that kid’s alright.”

“Kid?” Stiles snorts.

“You know what I mean. Gruff exterior aside, he’s a good guy. For a while there, I was afraid he was the next one to end up in the morgue.”

“I know how that feels.” He sinks back down onto his bed, holding his socks as he loses himself in the memory of Derek unconscious in the elevator.

“You do?”

“Of course. I’m always afraid. Afraid of me dying, you dying, one of them dying. It just comes with the territory, right?” 

“It comes with _my_ territory, kid. Not yours. You are in high school. Your territory should be homework, lacrosse, and dating.”

There is his opening. Even Stiles couldn’t have designed it better.

“So if I was to get involved with that last territory a little more that would be okay with you?”

He hears his father’s breath of a laugh but doesn’t look at him until it’s already gone and replaced with few consecutive nods as the Sheriff sits next to him.

“Yeah, Stiles. That would be okay with me.”

“Even if it was slightly unconventional?”, he asks and when he only gets a raised eyebrow as a response he elaborates, “Like it wasn't what you’d expect, not another student and maybe …”

“Not human?”, Sheriff asks.

“Yeah.” It’s quiet and fearful but it’s out there. Stiles wonders whether the Sheriff knows what he’s asking, and hopes he’s imagining the tension in his shoulders, but he doesn’t get an answer until his father has stood up and walked back towards his door.

“Assuming they were a good person, I reckon I could find a way to deal with that.”

“They?”

“Yeah, Stiles, they.” 

Their matching smirks seem to shine brighter than the morning sun.

* 

Scott and Lydia are waiting for him on the steps, looking pissed off. 

“Peter is gone. He left town this morning. Showed up at my house at 7 am, freaked my mom out being all polite and shit, and then said _he no longer feels the need to stay in this shithole town and wanted to properly inform the resident Alpha of his departure_.” Scott’s impression of Peter never fails to be hilarious to Stiles. “Did you know he has a house? Left me a bloody key.”

“You mean he doesn’t slink away to the sewers when he’s done creeping us out? Color me surprised.”

“We should probably check if there a mortgage on that house. Maybe he just stuck you with a huge debt.” There is a reason Lydia has been on a path to become a valedictorian since third grade. No one has a brain that works quite like hers.

Scott looks okay with that being the end of the conversation, but Lydia doesn’t. 

“Lyds, you okay?”

“I think ... someone died.” Scott and Stiles glance at each other briefly before returning their attention to the banshee. “Yesterday, there were claw marks on the staircase when I got up and it smelt like matchsticks everywhere I went. Did you hear howling during yesterday's practice?”

After Scott shakes his head no, Stiles updates his friends.

“Talia’s gone”, he says and when he gets two puzzled expressions in return he adds, “Derek told me.”

Lydia looks satisfied that she was right or maybe she’s just relieved it wasn’t someone else, but Scott is looking at him like he knows the secrets to the universe and is refusing to share.

“Well boys, as for Peter, good riddance if you ask me. As for Talia, sad but it had to happen. We can’t have dead people walking about. There’s only so many times we can convince the residents they imagined things.”

“We should make up some sort of a drug that spreads around through pipes, have deputies warn folks about it. Might come in handy.”

“I’ll do some research on LSD variants. Scott, can you still meet Allison and Isaac with me later?”

As his best friend confirms their plans to Lydia, Stiles feels strangely out of the loop but he waits until Lydia is far enough to start dragging Scott in the opposite direction and inquiring.

“She wants to test her new abilities. Allison is going to do some hunter exercises with her. They have an agenda and all. She needs us for safety. Something about Isaac catching an arrow once.”

“And you’re okay with this?”

“I guess I’m kinda over it.”

“Really?” Stiles can’t quite stop his tone from sounding like an accusation but Scott doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Yeah, man. I’m not happy about it but there’s so much else going on in my life I’m okay with focusing on other things", Alpha concludes with a shrug. “When did Derek tell you Talia is gone?” Good segue, Scott.

“Yesterday. I didn’t expect Lydia to feel her, since she was already dead, but …”

“Right.” Scott stops him just before they enter the school and Stiles flails only a minuscule amount, “Other people are, of course, allowed to pull their epic romance to the front instead of keeping it on the back burner.“ Once again Scott seems willing to wait him out. Stiles is done with it.

“All right, Mr. Alpha. Fine. You were right. I might have an interest in more than just Lydia. Or girls in general. And I might have a bit of a soft spot for Derek. That goes beyond just observation. And it involves _feelings_. Which doesn't mean anything is going to happen. Also, my father might have somehow picked up some of your senses because he seemed oddly intuitive this morning.”

“Whoa. How did he take it?”

“He didn’t seem to be all that surprised.”

“Does he know it’s Derek?”

“Yup.”

“Does Derek know its Derek?”

This is what Stiles was trying to avoid. He hopes it’s visible in his giant eye roll. “I kinda yelled it at him yesterday.”

Scott abruptly stops chewing on a Twix bar. _Where did that come from?_ Werewolf metabolism, honestly. “What exactly did you yell at him?”

Stiles recounts the embarrassing experience as Scott leads the way to biology. Incredible that all this could be stirring inside him, on top of everything happening in Beacon Hills generally, and yet he must spend two hours this week learning about amphibians. Did he say incredible? He meant ridiculous. 

“He told you his mother is dead, _again_ , and you told him you _want_ him.”

“Well, not in that sequence. Actually, yes in that sequence but you're ignoring the context. He was lashing out, as was I and we both decided to be grown-ups about it. It's called personal growth, Scott. Look it up.”

“It's bewildering to me how you always seem to end up in situations like this.”

“When have I ever been in a situation like this?”, Stiles stares at his friend incredulously. “Are people lining up to hug me and tell me they like me?” 

Scott stares back with a matching expression.

“First of all, you didn't tell me anything about a hug. And second of all, you _do_ end up in these situations. Maybe not specifically this kind, but there's a clear pattern. You know you are my best friend, you know no one could ever come close to you, and yet you get this look on your face whenever Isaac is near like he's more entitled to me. You know your dad would both kill and die for you and yet every once in a while you convince yourself his life would be better without you. And even after I confirmed to you, 100 percent, that Derek is romantically interested in you, here you are still pretending that it's not happening.” 

Stiles has enough decency to look around ashamed, hoping the rest of the students assembling into their seats hadn't heard any of that rant. Luckily for him, everyone seems equally enthusiastic about frogs as Stiles is about cleaning gutters and are ignoring them. Scott makes sure of the same thing before continuing, gentler, and kinder than before.

“There is a place for you in my pack, in this friendship, in this town, or any other town, anywhere else. Stop seeing yourself as this giant boulder that's in everyone's way, preventing them from going after cooler, better things. It's not true. And you're never gonna know what could be out there for you unless you give it a chance.”

You'd expect such a statement would do something like lifting the weight off Stiles's chest. It doesn't. Blame it on the darkness surrounding his heart, his ADD, or any other shitty thing currently plaguing his life but it's not an instantaneous relief. There's no clear, definitive line crossed that makes Stiles feel complete again. Maybe he never will. That would be too easy after everything he's been through. 

However, it loosens something, deep in his gut, like putting on a stretchy tracksuit after a big meal, or taking a full breath after a week-long cold which makes regaining control over your own nostrils feel like an achievement. 

He puts aside insecurities rooted deep inside for however long and allows himself to entertain the idea that Scott might be right. Scott, who's leafing through his textbook, faking a picture of innocence, as he waits for Stiles to calm his breaths and his heart. When he feels Stiles looking at him, he glances up, looking the same as that kid who needed help building sandcastles first week in preschool, and grins. A perk of having the same best friend for so long is that sometimes words are not necessary; you understand each other based on a look or touch alone. 

Such thing happens at the next moment when Scott bumps his shoulder and Stiles tells him the page number he's been unsuccessfully searching for and they fall into a comfortable silence.

“Derek hugged you?!”

“Oh for the love of God!”

*

The wall is clean so his father must have taken care of it this morning before leaving, probably to allow Stiles extra time to ride his coming-out high as he's taken to calling it. Eventually, he'll have to really sit down with the Sheriff and offer more of an explanation, and if Stiles allows himself to hope he sees many, many awkward dinners with both his father and Derek.

Derek. Who he still hasn't talked to. Or seen. There was no lurking today during lacrosse. Isaac seemed in his usual spirits, which is sarcasm paired with general unhelpfulness but Stiles decided not to comment on it.

Allison and Lydia watched the game from the bleachers, both waiving at him during intermission, Lydia also giving him an earnest smile. It's funny, how long one is capable of not seeing what is right in front of them. Stiles adored her for so long that it became a part of his identity, the core of his being. It's laughable to see now how wrong he was. He never wanted to date her. He just needed her to acknowledge him in order to feel like his existence had meaning. Like he wasn't just a filler.

Looking around the court, seeing his friends _(plural!)_ it finally dissolved the effect the last year had on him.

He comes home to dinner already in the oven, his dad keeping the tv in the background while he sorts through some of his case files and refuses to let Stiles take a peek. 

When he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, he absentmindedly fishes it out holding the glass of milk in his other hand. He surprisingly doesn't drop it when he spots Derek's name next to the text notification. Stiles backs out of the kitchen, on which his father doesn't comment but notices judging by the slight curve of his mouth. Smooth!

Once he's in the safety of his room it takes him only four minutes to pluck up the courage to open the message, he's very proud to say thank you very much.

_Peter left town. Unlikely to come back._

_Oh._ Kudos to Derek for keeping the communication channel open, but Stiles is disappointed. He's man enough to admit he expected more. He decides to prod with a metaphorical tentacle.

_did he say where? or give a reason?_

he doesn't have to wait long for an answer.

_No, and I didn't ask. Guess we don't have much keeping us together without her._

And..... they're talking about it. Stiles is somehow both relieved and terrified that they are. Before he has a chance to wonder about it, another vibration startles him.

 _Something leaving tracks around Preserve. Pack meeting tomorrow at 5?_ _Isaac is already here, just text the others._

Well, guess that's that sorted. He's glad Derek's not alone. Even if something new is on the way to bite them in the ass. Trust Beacon Hills to remain a bloody beacon and not give them a break. He texts Scott and the girls and once everyone confirms they'll be there, gets a picture of the tracks Derek found during a check-up. 

He knows he should start researching, it's always better if they know what they're dealing with as soon as possible, they've all learned that the hard way. Yet, he stays seated on his bed, tries to find something else to say. He doesn't want to go back to what they had before, only being in contact when shit is going down and forgetting Derek existed when things were peaceful. 

_do you wanna have dinner before the meeting?_

He deletes that one in the long press of a key.

_do you wanna come over and help me figure it out?_

he gives a little more thought to that one but eventually deletes it too. He sighs and texts Scott.

_how do you ask someone on a date? but like stealthily so_

His alpha doesn't fail him. The reply is swift.

_just ask him if he wants to see a movie. or go bowling :-P_

He tries it out. It feels too casual not to mention stupid. They fight monsters on a daily and he's asking if Derek wants to see a movie. He shouldn't be doing this. Stupid! Delete!

He types a new message and stares at it until letters start blurring. 

Regression to the mean Scott called it. Whatever good luck Stiles had these past few days will run out and he'll be left bloody and bruised, struggling to see the light once again. 

_Do you want to go out with me?_

Screw it. He's the scrawny human in the middle of the wolf pack. He can make his own luck. He hits send.

*

_yes_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's over.  
> First two chapters sat in my draft folder for solid three years, but after being stuck in a horrid job for a year and a half I completely lost the willpower to look at it again. While it's definitely not my best writing (not by a long shot), I'm incredibly glad I've pushed myself to finish this.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and see you next time.


End file.
